


you can sleep when you're better

by oakslug



Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: (and a couple swear words), Animal Death, Blood, Gen, Light Angst, spoilers for the forest!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-07 18:17:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20313898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oakslug/pseuds/oakslug
Summary: David digs a hole, finally ties up the canoes, and immediately suppresses as much of his trauma as possible.Then he tells Gwen about everything except that last part. And the first part.Actually, he doesn't really talk about any of it.





	you can sleep when you're better

**Author's Note:**

> first fanfiction baybeyy! that new episode sure was painful, huh

David's hands were buried in the wolf's grey fur, panicked tears in his eyes.

She would be fine, they both survived the forest before and they would again, despite the slight setback of being mauled by a bear. He'd patch her up, go back to camp, and everything would go back to normal. Wild animals weren't safe to keep around children, but the platypus was alright enough, so maybe he'd reconsider taking her back with him this time. A second mascot is just what everyone needed, the more the merrier, as they say.

When she was better, of course.

It would be difficult explaining the new addition to the camp, especially to Gwen, who probably wouldn't be impressed in the slightest. The story of how they found each other would be embellished a little, the campers didn't need to know about him screaming with a boulder in his hands, tears dripping down his face and the wolf's terrified gaze underneath him.

The forest floor was stained red.

He knew he couldn't help her. He couldn't stop the bleeding, not long enough to let the deep claw marks seal. There just wasn't enough left of her to save, even if he carried her all the way back himself.

She had saved him. Because he had spared her, she saved him.

"Thank you." His voice was barely a whisper, hit with a desperate need to say something. "I'll never forget what you've done for me."

Shaking with emotion, David took his hands off of her wounds, which poured blood without anything holding it back. His friend, the only one by his side in that past hellish month, bled into the soil.

"I'm so sorry," he said, gently petting the wolf's cheek as she died.

\----

Digging a hole into the ground took just shy of an hour, scraped out of the earth with a large branch. Tree roots were pushed aside, centipedes and wood lice scattering out of their disturbed homes.

Over the lake, the sun was setting, casting the wolf's pelt in an orange light. Her body was placed in the shallow grave, legs splayed and fur matted, face peaceful.

The ground was filled back in.

He turned and walked.

There was barely any light to see by as the canoes were tied up. A little later than he intended, but it was better late than never.

Strings of stars reflected in the lake.

He stumbled, path hazy beneath his feet, brain leading him forwards even as his mind slipped back into numbness. Time became abstract, pain became dull. Nothing meant much of anything until his bed was suddenly in front of him and a month's worth of exhaustion hit him all at once.

\----

Gwen hadn't been sleeping well.

Making sure no one died during the last camp adventure was stressful enough, she still wasn't sure how the burning blimp didn't kill anyone, but everyone was unscathed and fine. No dead campers, no paperwork to fill out and extra headaches to suffer through, all good.

No, what wasn't all good was the fact that David had just disappeared afterwards. Straight up gone, nothing left behind to say where he went.

Torn between panic, worry, and anger, Gwen had kept everything going. Told the campers that the other counsellor was on an emergency trip, or some such bullshit. Running the camp alone for a month was terrible. More than terrible, actually.

Hellish, she decided. It was hellish.

She'd spent most of her nights shakily breathing past the usual, crushing anxiety, only managing a meager few hours of rest before her brain decided it was too worried to sleep.

That night had been different, though, for some reason. Maybe her sleep deprivation had finally caught up to her, maybe it was the extra painkiller before bed, or maybe the world decided to give her a break for once - either way, she had sunk into a deep rest the moment her head hit the pillow.

So when she was rudely woken up only a few hours later by someone loudly collapsing into the bed opposite her, she had murder on her mind.

Gwen pushed herself to sit up, skull aching and eyes angry, and glared at David lying face-down on his bed.

Then she paused, and took another, confused, look at David lying face-down on his bed. She flicked on the light next to her, taking in the mess that was the other camp counsellor.

First, she noticed, his shirt was made out of leaves. Actual leaves. The makeshift shirt left his arms bared, which were covered with ugly-looking scars and scabs, connected with smears of dried blood. He looked terrible. Was that a splint on his leg?

Gwen was shaking him awake before she even realised what she was doing. "David, wake up."

She got a vague murmur in response.

"David!" She shook him slightly harder. Letting him sleep injured was a bad idea, probably. And if she wasn't getting any sleep, neither was he.

When he turned his head to give her a half-awake hum, her first though was that he looked different, somehow. Then she realised he had a full beard and the dissonance between what she was seeing and _David_ was enough to push away the rest of her lingering sleep.

She may have laughed a little.

David huffed what may have also been a laugh and fixed her with a tired glare.

"I know, I know," Gwen took a deep breath. "But, c'mon, you need to get up and tell me where the hell you've been."

His glare turned miserable fairly quickly, and he buried his face back into his pillow.

Sighing, she told him he had five extra minutes whilst she made them coffee.

\----

They quietly sipped at their drinks, bitter warmth and sweet, sweet caffeine. David was sat up against the headboard of his bed, eyes distant and tired. Gwen looked over him in concern from where she was slumped on the edge of her own bed.

Neither person spoke until the coffee was gone.

"So," Gwen broke the silence first, "you wanna talk now?"

"Not really," David scratched at his beard. "I tripped when I was tying up the canoes."

"Yeah, I'm gonna need a bit more than that."

Reluctantly, he continued on. The story came out in bits and pieces, skimmed over and sounding more like the blurb of a book.

Hitting his head and waking up downstream, canoe broken and surroundings unfamiliar. Finding higher ground at night. Befriending a wolf, apparently.

She knew there were details being left out, parts where his voice would shake and trail off, picking up again further forwards in the story with nothing in between. No explanation was given for the cuts on his arms, or the blood on his hands.

Just very lost in a forest was the final verdict. Very lost, but having a grand old time aside from that. Gwen didn't believe that in the slightest.

"And... then I saw the lake, tied up the canoes, and here we are!" David finished, clutching his long-empty mug and attempting a grin.

"Let's say I believe that for now." She would pry further afterwards. Or, at least, try to. "Gotta ask, though, what happened to your arms?"

"Well, you know... brambles?"

"And your leg?"

"Oh, it's broken."

"Right, right." Gwen nodded. "So anyway, we're taking you to a hospital, like, now."

David shook his head, already spouting excuses. "I'm fine, honest! I've had time to heal, it was at the start." A thoughtful pause, "how long has it been? I stopped counting when..."

The cabin fell silent again. Gwen wanted to throttle him.

"A month, David. Jesus Christ, you were gone for a _month_."

"Ah." He spared a look at his splinted leg, which was still bruised and aching. "Yeah, maybe I should go."

"No shit. I'll get the car."

\----

Their trip to the hospital was, thankfully, short. David's leg was put in a proper splint, made of fibreglass instead of sticks and vines. His arms were also bandaged, the blood washed away.

He felt far more alive than before, although he was looking forward to putting on a real shirt and shaving off his beard, and said as much as they were walking to the car.

"Yeah," Gwen looked him over. "Not gonna lie, it's kinda freaking me out."

"Hey! It's not _that_ bad!" His hand came up to rest on his face, pouting. "Maybe I'll keep it, then. Pull off the rugged look."

"You would never hear the end of it, you know that, right?"

"Yeah..."

David thought of the campers. Nikki would probably call him a lumberjack. Max taking one look at him and falling into hysterics, laughing in the way that's mean but still genuine, worth letting the mocking words slide. The others asking where he'd been, probably not actually worried but interested anyway.

He missed them.

After a quiet pause, he turned to Gwen. "How has everyone been?"

"Eh. Bored, mainly. But most of them are still alive." She gave him an unreadable look, "still little shits as usual."

Guilt clawed at David's arms. And so were his hands, he scolded himself, gingerly flattening the bandages he disturbed. "And you?"

She sighed. "Fine." Rubbing her forehead, she added, "I need a break after this, though."

"That's fair."

\----

When they got back to their cabin, just past midnight, David faceplanted onto his bed for the second time that night, falling asleep just as quickly.

Gwen leaned against the doorway, looking into the darkened room.

She didn't know what had really happened to him, during the week-long gaps in his story. Something was still hurting him, clear in his shaking hands and the tears he held back and she pretended not to notice. Whatever it was definitely wasn't good, but that was a problem for later.

Sleep called to her.

They could deal with everything else in the morning.

**Author's Note:**

> oneshot? oneshot. unless more is wanted! idk, man, it's a free world
> 
> criticisms are great btw, it's how i feel validation! 
> 
> [fingerguns]


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